We Love Anyway
by La Patron-Minette
Summary: "They were all shards of a single piece. Together, they were whole." Everyone/everyone. WARNING: Major smut.
1. Chapter 1

**In case some of you are unaware, there's been a lot of ****_merde_**** on tumblr about different ships (the main one that people complain about.. here's a hint, it starts with an 'Enjo' and ends with a 'Nine'). So I've decided to come up with a solution!**

**I don't think one of these has ever been written before (correct me if I'm wrong because I REALLY want to read another like this)... Here is my first... EVERYONE/EVERYONE fic!**

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Marius was the last to join the group so pretentiously titled "_Les Amis de l'ABC_". Technically, he was second to last, being as a girl from his apartment complex came with him to the first meeting, uninvited but welcome nevertheless.

The group was fairly odd, and yet normal at the same time. They worked to assist the lowly, hence the French pun of their name_, l'ABC_ is pronounced as _l'abaissé,_ the abased. They were abnormal in the way that, unlike most normal charity groups, the members shared a deep bond that went past that of coworkers.

Marius's old roommate, Courfeyrac, was the first to welcome him. The handsome young man embraced his friend and sloppily kissed the girl, Éponine, on the cheek. The two were ushered in to sit around the table as they planned their plot to change the world to benefit the people.

At first, he noticed absolutely nothing in that innocent way that surrounded Marius. He was far too occupied thinking of his Cosette, who had recently slipped him her number in pretending to pick a flower at the Luxembourg. However, there were certain things that he could not entirely ignore.

He caught sight of the first thing when Grantaire drunkenly took a hold of Jehan's hand and began to rub the poet's wrist. Jehan appeared to take no notice, instead continuing his reading of Dante without acknowledging the man. Grantaire then slung his arms around Enjolras's shoulders. The leader temporarily stiffened, but then relaxed into the drunk's touch.

Marius frowned at the last action, for the cynic and the believer were constantly at odds. Then again, he wouldn't know sexual tension if it smacked him in the face.

It only became real to him when he noticed Éponine coming home later and later, long after he left. If he caught sight of her in the hall, it was often that she had mussed hair and smeared make-up. Once he had made the mistake to comment on her appearance. Éponine, rather than sending him her usual slightly hurt expression, defiantly placed a cigarette between her flushed lips and exhaled in his face.

He realized then that she was in some sort of relationship with one of the Amis. While he was slightly curious as to which one, he chose not to investigate for he had a lack of curiosity once he found all the answers in Cosette.

Still, some things were strange.

Musichetta, Bossuet and Joly had an established relationship, one that was fluid to whatever trends any of them felt the desire to bend to. Marius, while slightly deterred by their taboo lifestyle, was fine with how things went between them, for they seemed happy.

One day he walked into the back room to see Joly and Bossuet chatting amiably over the newest addition to a popular political magazine while Musichetta and someone in a brown cap were kissing ferociously with hands everywhere. The boys seemed not to mind, occasionally glancing over and smiling at the sight. Marius stood in shock in the doorway, and he only managed to move once the cap fell off the mysterious lover, revealing a familiar head of tangled curls.

He ran.

Éponine confronted him on the fire escape later about it, but he refused to talk or listen. He heard her mention the names Grantaire and Enjolras, but he simply nodded without absorbing a single word. Once she was done talking, she looked him in the eye harshly.

"Do you understand?"

"Yeah." He answered.

But he didn't. Not really.

Many months after he and Éponine joined, Marius called the police upon hearing Thernardier plan to harm Cosette's father, the man who had inhabited more than simple fear in Marius. The young man was _terrified_ of his girlfriend's father, in fear of what he might do were he to discover their relationship. The police arrived and immediately cuffed the Thernardier and Thernardiess as well as their youngest daughter who had been keeping watch for them. Marius didn't know where Éponine was, but he felt a twang of guilt once he remembered that her name came up in the conversation with the police.

He trudged to the café that night, hoping and dreading to see Éponine. When he entered, _Les Amis_ were a tangle of limbs and bottles as they laughed and enjoyed a night that Enjolras had to write an essay for his Poly Sci class, leaving them to their own devices.

The police came in about twenty minutes after Marius, seizing a drunk Éponine and cuffing her wrists behind her back. The boys (and Musi) all leapt to their feet to protest. Marius was astounded by the sheer greatness of their numbers united against one force.

They defended Éponine with all they had, claiming she had a solid alibi, that she was with them for the entirety of the night. The police eventually released her, and she tumbled into a waiting hug with tears in her usually cold eyes.

Marius, not wishing to be faced directly with Éponine after calling the police, moved back in with Courfeyrac.

What he called 'The Incident' occurred a few weeks after he moved in (three days after Cosette approached her Papa with the idea of moving into an apartment of her own with a roommate. She just failed to mention that her new flat mate would be a boy, who doubled as her secret boyfriend).

Half of his stuff was still packed from the initial move from the Gorbeau complex to Courfeyrac's building, and a quarter was re-packed for the move to his new place with Cosette. He left work early to come home and finish packing, and when he used the spare key to unlock the door, he stopped.

On the couch was Éponine, her skirt hoisted to her waist, exposing a portion of her cheap, lacy underwear. Her top was half off her shoulder and her hair was akin to that of one who recently awoke. A cigarette was hanging from her pouting lips. That wasn't the strange part, though. Jehan's head was resting in Éponine's lap. Also fairly normal. What was unusual was the fact that Courfeyrac was atop Jehan, moving their lips together with a fierce passion often found with the dandy. As Marius observed from the doorway, Jehan and Courfeyrac broke apart and Courfeyrac pressed a kiss to the expanse of skin beneath Éponine's ear.

Marius made a nonsensical noise in the back of his throat, causing all three parties to leap apart as if they were set on fire. Jehan looked at his feet and shuffled them. Éponine crossed her arms and glared at her former neighbor. She _had_ tried to tell him, after all. Courfeyrac ran a hand through his (somehow still) immaculate hair, looking terribly guilty and slightly embarrassed.

To Marius, it didn't make sense.

To the eleven members of their strange net of benefits, nothing else seemed natural. They were all shards of a single piece. Together, they were whole.

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**So this first chapter is cutesy and stuff and then next chapter is SMUT. so please review with any sort of pairing. ANY AND ALL, THIS INCLUDES MARIUS AND COSETTE.**

**(Note: The Enjolras in this story is asexual. He can and will participate in vulgar sex acts, but mostly to please those he cares about. He is into their relationship on the personal scale, whilst everyone else also delves into the physical)**


	2. In Which Grantaire Wins a Bet

**First smut scene! This is e/R, so TW for slash. **

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It started innocently enough. Grantaire's bare foot was brushing Enjolras's jeaned calf, causing little goosebumbs to emerge on the hidden skin. Then the movements of that foot became more demanding. His sole rubbed incessantly against the denim and his toes curled around the muscled curve of Apollo's leg before coming away, only to return with just as much zeal.

To Enjolras's credit, he was holding up well. Other than a small twitch along his jaw line, he appeared to be relatively unmoved. As he always was. But that twitch of slight discomfort allowed Grantaire to know that Enjolras knew exactly what he was hinting at. When blue eyes looked up to meet Grantaire's, Enjolras was met with a fixed stare on his lips, and he knew he could no longer deny the drunk his needs.

He stood up with a labored sigh, as if someone had just asked him to do a particularly difficult favor. Grantaire stood as well and bowed dramatically to the rest of the group. Combeferre frowned disapprovingly- there _was_ work to be done, after all- but his expression soon turned to that of shock, and one of Éponine's hands was noticeably missing from around her bottle.

Grantaire and Enjolras exited the Musain, passing a smug Musichetta who winked at the two of them. On their way out, she smacked Enjolras's ass and murmured to Grantaire, "Go get 'im, Tiger!"

There was a slowly growing bet amongst their tightly-knit web of who would be the first to make Enjolras genuinely enjoy a sexual act. He participated, often assisting one of the boys if they needed help finishing off, and once fingering Musichetta in a Taco Bell bathroom when she got in the mood and neither Joly nor Bossuet was around. Despite this, he himself was not one who attended to his instincts. Many were sure he had no _needs_.

Grantare was determined to prove them wrong. How ironic, for the cynic to believe in nothing but his opposite.

Grantaire led Enjolras to an alley and as soon as the two of them were hidden in shadows, the artist attacked that red mouth, his tongue sliding and colliding with Enjolras's silver one. Grantaire's hands roamed, one locking around Enjolras's cheek and the other on his waist, his thumb dangerously near his member.

Eventually Enjolras pulled away from the kiss and knelt on the ground, unbuckling Grantaire's trousers. He looked up then, as if needing permission. Grantaire was blown away by that image of the mighty Apollo, knelt before him with his blond hair in disarray and his blue eyes shining with something other than disapproval. It was all Grantaire could do to nod in affirmation of Enjolras's silent question.

And so he continued, pulling the fabric so that it rested around Grantaire's mid-thigh and doing the same with his slightly (too) old boxers.

Grantaire was more than hard by that point. His cock sprang free, fully erect with a glistening of pre-cum frosting his head. Enjolras's mouth descended, and Grantaire sharply inhaled.

Enjolras's mouth felt like heaven around his shaft. Those pretty lips were good for more than just mouthing words as he poured over difficult texts. Enjolras bobbed his head back up, releasing Grantaire's cock with a sensual 'pop!'.

Grantaire whined like a wronged child at the lack of Apollo's mouth, but his childish noise soon dissolved into a breathy moan as Enjolras returned, capturing all of Grantaire in one swift nod.

Grantaire raised his hand to his mouth and bit it sharply to stop from screaming aloud. They _were_ in public after all, and no matter how perfect Enjolras's throat felt around him, Grantaire would be properly quiet.

Enjolras's silver tongue began to lick Grantaire's head as he continued bobbing up and down. Grantaire bit hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste combined with Enjolras's excellent oral skills made for his finish.

His free hand grasped a handful of blond curls and he bucked into Enjolras's throat, feeling the blond gag as Grantaire came roughly into his mouth.

"Sorry," He managed, still a touch breathless from his orgasm. Enjolras attempted to swallow his load, spitting what he couldn't onto the dirty alley ground. He stood and shook his head, saying 'it's nothing' with that little motion, still licking away what remained of Grantaire's cum.

Enjolras's jeans, spotless mere minutes before, now had knees that were coated with filth from the squalid ground. For some reason, seeing the spotless man with imperfect clothing made him all the more eager to remove said clothing.

"Can I try something?" Grantaire asked. Enjolas, finally ready to speak, narrowed his eyes.

"Grantaire, you _know_ I just don't respond to-" He tried to protest, but at that point the deft artist's fingers were already unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his boxers. Just as Grantaire expected to see, Enjolras was still very flaccid despite their steamy alleyway encounter.

"Just do this for me," He whispered in Enjolras's ear, backing him up until his back hit the brick wall. "Imagine that I'm not doing this to you. Just close your eyes and pretend that we aren't here."

Enjolras did as was told. Grantaire's fingers became hesitant before wrapping themselves around his idol's most intimate body part. He slowly began to pump. On every other stroke, his thumb rolled over Enjolras's head. Even after several minutes of this, there was only the smallest reaction from Enjolras, causing Grantaire to grow slightly impatient.

"If it will help, put your hand on top of mine and just pretend that you're doing this to yourself." Grantaire whispered into the sweaty crook of Enjolras's neck. One smooth hand lay atop Grantaire's as he continued his motions.

Grantaire's other hand gently fondled Enjolras's balls, and after a few strokes with their entwined hands, Enjolras grew hard under Grantaire's palms. The cynic had to hold back an inopportune snort.

As it was with all great men, Enjolras was at least a little bit narcissistic. Not when it came to his own looks as it was with most, but with many other things. More like a combination of his many skills, his vast knowledge, and the ability to put his talents to use.

Enjolras moaned so quietly it was almost like a prayer against Grantaire's hot skin. His hips bucked against Grantaire's hand, and so the Grantaire pushed himself against Enjolras so that his right hip was holding Enjolras's left in place. His hand continued its mission, and eventually Enjolras's fell to his side and he closed his eyes and allowed his mouth to hang open in a silent scream.

Enjolras finished, his cum dripping onto the ground, a bit getting on Grantaire's hands and his own shoes. Grantaire moved away from Enjolras, smirking as Enjolras gathered himself, flushing slightly at having been so physically vulnerable.

"That's three months of free drinks for me!" Grantaire joked as the two of them returned to their friends. Enjolras's eyebrows raised in question.

"You made a bet on who would be the first to make me orgasm?" He asked.

Grantaire groaned mockingly. "You make it sound so formal! But yes, yes we did."

After a few moments' deliberation, Enjolras shrugged nonchalantly. "I feel like I should be upset about it, but I'm strangely _not_."

"You know us too well." Grantaire said, slinging his arm over Enjolras's lean shoulders. They entered the room like this, and it was Enjolras who delivered the news to the group.

"You all owe Grantaire three months of free drinks." He said, simply. It took a moment for it to sink in, and Éponine was the first to speak.

"You don't mean to say-"

"Yeah, I got him off." Grantaire boasted, taking his seat. Soon after, Enjolras joined him.

Unable to resume his work after what transpired that evening, Enjolras sat back and allowed himself to be lulled into the cadence of his friends (and lovers). Courfeyrac's arm was around his waist, Grantaire's hand was on his knee, and he and Combeferre rested their entwined hands on Courfeyrac's lap.

Looking around the table, all the members were connected in some way or the other. It was the tangible representation of what they were, _who_ they were.

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**Review my one follower with thy OTP! (hi, by the way!)**


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